


Nervous Tick Motion

by FrozenMemories



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Episode: s03e05 Die Trying, F/F, Fluff, Missing Scene, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Missing scene between Saru adressing the crew about their possible separation and the mission to the Tikhov.Keyla is battling her anxiety and Joann is trying to pull her out of it.
Relationships: Keyla Detmer/Joann Owosekun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Nervous Tick Motion

Keyla’s knee is bouncing so violently it creates a thrumming sensation that courses through her entire body. She hasn’t grown used to these unpredictable waves of anxiety – and she has no desire to ever do so. Her debriefing is scheduled in one hour and 49 minutes. That’s an hour and 49 minutes of thoughts spinning in circles at the prospect of Discovery’s crew being separated. An hour and 49 minutes to think about what value a mentally unstable pilot from a millennium ago could possibly hold for the future or the Federation.

The room starts spinning and Keyla feels the walls closing in on her. It’s not real, the rational part of her brain reasons, but her racing pulse definitely is. Staring at the walls, she wills them to bend back into their original shape again.

She startles at the sudden noise of the door swishing open.

“Shower’s all yours,” Joann announces with a warm smile, and just for an instance Keyla’s downward spiral is interrupted by the bright and eager shine of it.

She manages a quiet “Thanks,” but doesn’t move. Her leg is still fidgeting and the mere act of standing up seems like an impossible feat.

“Keyla?” Joann’s voice carries the familiar timbre of concern. She hates herself for it, for making Joann worry so much, despises her own weakness and incapacity. She’s supposed to be the strong one, and yet she can’t even form a reply.

The bed dips as Joann sits down next to her, her bare thigh brushing Keyla’s as a warm hand lands on her knee, stifling the nervous motions.

“I’m not okay,” she hears herself repeating the words she told Dr. Culber during her counseling session, mere hours before they made their jump to the new Starfleet Headquarters. She’s trying to remember how the rest of their conversation went, what words he used to describe her experiences and feelings when her own words wouldn’t make sense. She tries to summon the reassurance she felt when he spoke to her, but nothing comes up.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” she finally confesses into the quiet of their quarters.

Joann wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls Keyla into her side.

“You will be,” she promises and presses her soft lips against Keyla’s eyebrow, “We’re all a little lost right now.”

Keyla feels a tear trickle down the side of her face. The logical part of her mind _knows_ this and still, she feels like she’s the only one going through this. Or at least the only one who is so obviously affected.

“How are you so calm then?” she asks, voice small and foreign to her own ears.

Joann smiles, but there is sadness tingeing the pureness of it.

“I’m not,” she states simply.

There’s more to be said and she can feel Joann’s efforts in holding back, opting for body language instead of words, as her arms tighten around Keyla’s trembling frame.

She wants to cling to Joann so badly, to hold her tight and draw strength from her, but her hands won’t obey command – they just clench and fidget uselessly in her lap.

Her world is still spinning and she feels like she is floating through an endless sea of uncertainties, one question louder than all else: _What if they take Joann away?_ She can hear the words but can’t tell whether they’re just ringing in her head or she is saying them out loud.

“They’re not going to separate us, you hear me?”

Joann sounds determined as she speaks, her voice breaking Keyla out of her tumultuous thoughts.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I won’t let them,” she says like it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

“Joann…”

“I’m not leaving you,” she states firmly and Keyla wants to desperately hang onto that promise, but it’s not in their hands, she reminds Joann numbly.

“I’ll resign if I have to. I’ll defect. I’ll run away with you.”

A chuckle rumbles through Keyla’s chest. It’s a small solace. She knows Joann would never disobey regulations like that, but it’s the thought that counts and for a moment she allows herself to indulge in their little hypothetical escape.

“Where would we go?” she asks, feeling a tentative smile form on her lips.

“Someplace nice, with a beach preferably,” Joann replies, as if it’s something she’s spent some thought on already.

Keyla nods her approval and finds herself wishing it was more than just a silly joke between the two of them.

“You’d miss your friends though,” she argues thoughtfully.

Joann smiles.

“I’d miss you more.”

The sincerity in Joann’s eyes shouldn’t overwhelm her like this – she’s been familiar with her for too long. And yet, it does. Keyla worries her bottom lip as the implication behind her words sinks in. When she lifts her head she finds Joann gazing at her through darkened eyes.

Joann, always considerate, leans in closely and searches Keyla’s face for permission, even though she’s kissed her countless times before. Keyla’s mouth curls in invitation and then all she feels is the soft press of Joann’s lips against hers.

It’s a promise and a confirmation, and more importantly: a most welcome distraction.

Keyla cups her hand around Joann’s soft cheek, gently drawing her in as she deepens the kiss into a slow dance of lips and tongues.

Joann’s hands roam over her shoulders and before long she registers her jacket sliding off her arms. It feels like a switch has been turned in her head, thoughts and doubts not gone but locked aside, their echoes drowned out by the sound of Joann’s breathing and the drum of her own heartbeat.

In a series of swift and smooth motions Keyla removes Joann’s shirt and pushes her down to the mattress. She trails kisses along Joann’s throat and chest in random patterns, slowly but surely making her way lower. Joann’s stomach quivers beneath her lips.

She places gentle kisses along the soft skin of Joann’s thighs, marveling in the small gasps that resound through the otherwise silent room.

Her fingers slip into the waistband of Joann’s briefs and she watches Joann’s hand tighten around a grasp full of sheets while she’s sliding them off. For a moment Keyla rests her hands on either of Joann’s knees, as she kneels back on the floor to take in the sight of Joann’s exposed body.

Wordlessly she leans down, parts Joann’s legs a little wider, and brushes light kisses across her warm skin.

The sweet smell of Joann guides her closer until she reaches the junction of thighs.

She lets her tongue sweep over Joann in sloppy, languid motions, just the way she likes it. Keyla’s always been made of precision and intent but she’s learned to let go of that for Joann – at least when it comes to _this._

Her reward is the rich and heady taste of sex.

Joann doesn’t make a lot of sounds, mostly there’s just harsh and heavy breathing, intercepted with occasional sighs as her arousal steadily builds. It’s subtle but Keyla knows all the signs of Joann’s impending release – the underlying tremor in her quiet moans and the gentle grasp of Joann's hand in her hair, as her thighs begin to tense and tremble.

She all but breathes out her climax, hips lifting off the bed and into Keyla’s mouth.

Once the shudders subside, Keyla kisses her way back up Joann’s body until she meets her satisfied grin. They gaze at each other for a few moments, exchanging soft smiles, before Keyla bows down for a leisurely kiss.

She leans on her elbow and lets her free hand draw random patterns across Joann’s chest, while Joann hums happily and shifts a little to the side. Her hand finds the hem of Keyla’s pants and tugs at her undershirt.

“Why are you still in your uniform?” she asks with a teasing lilt.

Keyla grins and gives a casual shrug.

“Nobody’s bothered to get me out of it.”

Seconds later Keyla finds herself flat on her back, Joann’s legs straddling her thighs as her hands unfasten her pants and shove up her shirt, seemingly all at once.

She laughs, more genuinely than she has in what feels like weeks.

Joann wastes no time, kissing a path down from her chin, along her throat, sternum, belly button… and suddenly Keyla feels as though she’s slipping from her grasp.

“Jo,” she breathes out, hands reaching for Joann’s shoulders to pull her back up, “Would you stay up here?”

Joann leans down and drops a gentle kiss to Keyla’s lips.

“Anywhere you want me,” she answers with a smile.

Keyla hugs her tight, breathing in the familiar scent of her girlfriend as she feels a reassuring calm settle over her.

“Thank you,” she whispers into the crook of Joann’s neck, eyes closed to the sensation of gentle fingers running up and down her thigh, first on the outer side, then moving along the more sensitive skin on the inside.

Keyla spreads her legs in silent invitation and Joann follows her thought.

Everything around her fades but the sensation of Joann – her warm touch, her soft skin and the heaviness of her upper body weighing down on Keyla’s chest.

Joann’s fingers dance across her sensitive skin, knowing where to tease and where to apply firm pressure, when to go to slow and when to dive in deep. They rub, slide and curl in familiar rhythms, spreading heat through Keyla’s entire nervous system.

She moans into the thick curtain of Joann’s hair falling across her face while Joann sucks sharply at the skin of her neck. Head thrown back Keyla tenses and then lets go to a shuddering release, tears burning behind her eyes, until she collapses boneless against the sheets.

Her first conscious thought when she returns to herself is that she’s feeling lighter, a little more grounded than before, held securely in Joann’s embrace. The calm, however, doesn’t last, and before long anxiety consumes her once again – what if they get reassigned separately? It’s not just about Joann, there’s Tilly, Dr. Culber, Michael, Nilsson, Rhys and Bryce… they’re her crew, the closest thing to family she has left.

Her eyes flit across the chrono on her bedside table. She still has an hour and-

Both their comms chirp up, “Commander Burnham to all bridge personnel, report to the bridge immediately.”

“So much for taking a shower,” Keyla mumbles ruefully. She sits up to reassemble her uniform and watches Joann get up to do the same. Secretly she’s grateful for the interruption of her thoughts, even though she would have liked to stay wrapped around Joann for a little while longer.

Dressed and presentable she stands by the door and waits for Joann to zip up and wipe down the front of her jacket. The numbing worries are raging on. Their last order was to stand by and wait for their interviews with Starfleet. This new turn of events surely can’t mean anything good.

She almost jumps at the touch of a hand at the top of her head. Joann gently cards her fingers through Keyla’s hair, straightening the tangled strands and smoothing them out.

“All good,” she smiles and Keyla forces herself to focus on the sight.

“Let’s go,” she says with a decisive nod and then they’re off to find out what news Michael has for them.


End file.
